She lies down on the bed slowly, uncoiling her body like rope, spreading herself out much thinner and longer than anyone would suspect. With her clothes on, she’s much more stolid, Jane Q. Citizen, a walking billboard for the Modern Successful Woman in a smart suit even when she’s hanging with the family at a cookout on the weekend.
On our trip to the store for some more ice and sodas, we’ve ducked into the house of a neighbor of my mother’s, who I know is on vacation, and who just happens to keep his key in the same place he did when we were kids.
“So that’s what he wants, I guess.” Her voice is softer here, too, more diffident than it is out in the real world, where she speaks in sharp declarative sentences, and is always making plans that remove obstacles that maybe only she sees.
In here, somehow, it’s always 1973.
“Hmmm. I see. So what do you want from me?” My voice is light, teasing, and she responds the same way.
“What else? The same great service as always. Teach me.You’ve done it, I assume?”
I grin. “Of course I have, Grasshopper. But you know, someday you must meet the world on your own.”
She smiles, her teeth peeking out around her thin lips, sad but still somehow genuinely pleased. “I think you’ll agree it’s probably too late for that,” she says. “You’re my teacher. We have established that.”
“Someday, the student shall surpass the teacher. After you snatch the fly from the air with chopsticks, of course.”
She grins again. “Silly. You’re mixing movies and TV shows.”
“Ahhh so. The million-dollar question. Just how big is this new guy?”
She holds her thumb and finger apart a few inches and says. “Mr. Vienna.”
“Wow. So why do you bother?”
“I don’t know. He’s good to me, and I just want to make him happy.”
“Well, I think you’d be better off with him, the first time,” I say, running my hands over her body and down to the tangle of fur that she has allowed to grow back from the thin ‘landing strip’ she had when I last touched her — what? About two years ago? So she planned this, I see. I run my hands over her pert little butt, as sexy as it was the first time I touched it.
“Well, I still prefer you,” she says. “I know you’re bigger, but you won’t hurt me. That’s another thing we have established, I think it’s safe to say.”
I yield the point. “Okay. But this is not something I think you should do immediately, dear. I think you need to prepare for it, practice relaxing.” I run my hand down across her compact butt and trace along the cleft with my forefinger. “Is he in a hurry?”
“He’d like it sooner rather than later, but I’ll put him off a week or so; tell him I need to research it,” she says easily.
“So… I get to take your virginity for the second time,” I say wonderingly.
Her eyes get that faraway look, and I know she’s remembering.
The week before the Doobie Brothers concert at the arena. Her boyfriend, who is a good five years older than she is, Randall, a loser from the bar where she and her underage friends hang out, cadging drinks. It’s still the ’70s, simultaneously a more-innocent and yet more-jaded time, when being underage doesn’t mean you can’t get inside the door of a bar yet without a fake ID. A halter top and a pair of low-riding jeans will get you in all but the most uptight of them. He has a Yamaha and a cheezy moustache, and he wears a T-Shirt that shows a kitten in a champagne glass and declares that Happiness is a Tight Pussy.
He somehow scored tickets to the show – probably stole them — and he’s taking her. He’s been pushing her pretty hard for awhile now, and she knows that he intends this to be the night she gives it up, and she’s resigned to it, but still scared. She often takes me with her to meet him because the pressure is less when younger kids are around, but it’s a drag for me, because he’s always trying to bribe me into going to the store to get him something — playing cards, donuts, a soda — anything to get me gone. She’s tired of the game, tired of the begging, pleading, wheedling, and she’s going to get it over with. Looks like making it to 16 is not in the cards, she tells me.
Wo ooh wo, listen to the music.
I am pissed. I have begun to hate the guy and his single-mindlessness. I tell her she doesn’t need to do this, but she says it’s okay. Lots of her friends gave it up at 13 or 14, and she knows it’s gotta be soon before she gets the wrong reputation.
You know, for being a frigid prick teaser.
I tell her I wish I knew her friends gave it up at my age, and she says that they don’t usually give it up to boys their own age. “Older men is what we all want. I wonder why?” I walk away toward the woods and prop my foot up on the log where I keep my Kool Milds. I stand and light one while I piss down into the culvert. Suddenly, I hear her, behind me. Too close behind me. “Hey, lend me a fag, man.”
“Hey, girl, I’m pissing here,” I protest, stuffing myself awkwardly back into my pants and turning away from the sound of her voice.
“I know,” she says. “Just toss me the pack.”
I hear the scratch of the match, and her inhalation. “Hey. I wanna ask you something.”
“Ok.”
“Don’t freak on me, alright?”
“Jeez. Just freakin’ ask, ok?”
“Can I… see it?”
“What??” I squawk. But I know what she means.
“I just wanna know what they look like. You know, I have only seen them in books. I just want to… you know, get ready for it…”
I decide quickly. “Ok. But you gotta show me yours too.”
She catches her breath and I know she’s about to say no.
“Fair’s fair,” I say. “I’m almost 14, and I need to get ready for it, too.”
Without another word, she lays down on the grass and pulls her skirt up. I can see her white cotton undies stretched taut over … whatever is there. I start to hear buzzing in my ears when she grasps the waistband and gets ready to pull it down.
Then she stops. “You first.”
The next thing I know, I have dropped my pants again, literally because they were already open, and she’s squinting into the sun to see my penis, which is embarrassingly getting harder and longer. “Wow,” she says wonderingly. “I didn’t know that they were that big. It looks like it might hurt.”
“You mean you never touched his…?” I had enough of a sense of things to suspect otherwise. But she shook her head. “Not… really. He rubs it against me through his pants, and puts my hand on it, but it’s hard to tell what it looks like. Seems like a knot more than a… pole. Wow.” She sits up to take closer look. “It’s getting a lot bigger.”
I am embarrassed. “Well, take off your panties. You promised.”
She looks at me, blushing hard, as she lies back again and, bending her knees, pulls them off, and I catch my first glimpse of actual pussy. Her skin is pale white, the hair soft brown and thin like on a baby‘s head. I can see a line, a separation of flesh extending down from the hair into her flesh, that extends out of sight between her parted legs. I wonder if it’s the same cleft that runs between her ass cheeks, and lean in for a closer look. She struggles into a sitting position and I see with shock that she is reaching for me.
“I just want to touch it,” she says. “Please. It’ll make it easier when I have to do it … later.”
She takes my cock into her sweaty palm and uses her fingers to push back the foreskin which is already pulling away on its own. It gives a leap at her touch and she jumps, then laughs. “Whoa,” she says as a sticky drop appears and wets her hands. I reach down and nudge her knees apart again so I can see. I don’t even ask; I just touch her crease, and it opens around my finger. I am surprised by the heat and the oiliness, and my finger slides inside. “Oh!” she says softly, and then I am rubbing and she is sighing, then suddenly I am lying on top of her, clumsily nuzzling her neck and pressing myself to her, seeking out the wetness. She gasps but doesn’t try to stop me and as I slide my cock into her slick warm pussy, I feel her hands on my bare ass, urging me on.
The heat of being inside her body electrifies me, and I press hard, trying to go in as deep as I can. She squeals as my cock presses against some sort of barrier and then she squeezes my ass harder, pulling me into her, and I feel it give. She cries out and I stop, but she’s murmuring that it’s okay, it’s supposed to be that way, it’s the hymen. I don’t know what she means, but I follow the heat of her, puahing way inside, until my cock is buried in her up to the balls. “Oh!” she says again.
“That feels good,” she says breathlessly.
“What now?” I ask.
She looks at me and laughs, her voice still breathless. “Move,” she says, and her hips push against mine, lifting her ass off the grass and then we begin pushing, pulling, in, out, over and over, faster and faster, as the feeling of hot flesh rubbing me wetly takes over. I grab her ass and blindly thrust back, hearing her breathing quicken in my ears, moaning into my neck whenever I go in all the way.
When I explode inside her, it feels like death and heaven all wrapped up in one, and her breathless voice in my ear suggests the feeling is mutual.
I wonder briefly if being the first one in her ass twenty years later will feel somewhat the same. It really does, actually.
When she shows up at the appointed place a week later, she’s prepared. “Which kind do you prefer?” she asks as she unpacks two boxes of condoms from her bag, along with the tube of gel I specified.
“Well, it’s up to you if we use one or not,” I tell her.
She colors. “I assumed…everyone would. For, you know, hygiene…”
“Well, we can, if it will make you feel more relaxed,” I tell her. “But… it hurts more the first time if you do. The latex sort of burns. If you did what I told you, about when to eat and what… and the enema to be safe?” She nods. “Then there’s no real need.”
She stands and bends over the bed, and hauls up her skirt. Her pale pink ass is naked under it, and I feel myself respond like a programmed robot. I rub my thickening cock against her cleft as I squeeze lube into my fingers and she moans.
“Wow, that’s cold,” she says as I slip my oily finger slowly inside her ass. She tenses up slightly but seems pretty relaxed for a first timer. She listens so well. I want to ram it into her tight little ass, my unsullied prize; it’s mine, and I want it.
“Baby,” I say. “It’s easier the first time if we do it from the front. I mean I love to look at your ass, and I know it would be good for me this way, but…”
“What…?” she says. “how?”
I show her, pushing her onto the bed supine and pressing her knees to her chest, then I reinsert my finger, working the knuckle past the sphincter and then following it with another. She gasps as I turn both slowly, and her breath starts to come faster as I press my hard cockhead into her cleft.
God, she’s tight, but the lube lets me slide right in, and she flinches but doesn’t pull away. I go in slowly, all the way, and stop fully inside her. “Just relax and get used to the feeling,” I say, as her breath races.
“Ok,” I say breathlessly, excited like a teenager, despite my best attempts. “When you’re ready, I am gonna fuck you.”
She swallows and blinks, her ass tight around me, but her body is slowly losing that panicked tenseness, her legs relaxing to let her lower back touch the bed again, and her cheeks rest on my thighs. “God,” she says. “You’re big. I always forget how big.”
Then she nods, and I start to move.
“Oh, Jesus,” she says as I slide almost all the way out and then start in again.
It’s like the first time all over again, she’s so tight that I am waiting for something to tear. I take her small breast in my hand and her heart thumps against my fingers like a scared rabbit, her breath whistling through her clenched teeth.
“Want me to stop?” I ask. She senses how much I want this and shakes her head.
“Just go easy… at first,” she gasps, closing her eyes
I take her nipple between my thumb and forefinger and squeeze. She jerks toward me, her eyes slam open again. I slip smoothly into her to the hilt and she groans.
“That…felt nice,” she gasps as I hold still inside her. “Do it again.”
I pull out and thrust in again, pushing her sphincter open again, rougher, faster, pinching both her nipples now to distract her.
“Oh, God,” she moans. “Do that some more. It’s so … nasty good.”
I slide my hand under her and lift her higher, folding her in half, her thighs touching her breasts, and begin to thrust harder, faster. I pound her ass, pulling her calves up to encircle my shoulders.
“I am fucking your ass, dear. How’s that?” My breath is coming fast, panting, her ass is fire, tight as a vice.
She stops me, and gets up. I think she’s going to the bathroom to cry and clean up, but she bends over the bed and pulls her cheeks apart for me. I slide between the familiar yet shockingly new compact rounded buttocks and nudge apart the puckered flower of her rectum. She meets my gentle thrust, burying me in her snug bunghole.
My animal takes over, like the first time. I ride, ride, ride, until I come hard. She cries out as I start to spurt, and then I go rigid and hold my cock deep inside her, and she moans, shudders to orgasm as my semen surges into her, filling her little ass.
“You know I never did…” she says when she gets her breath back.
“Never did what?”
“Never did give it up to Randall,” she says. “After you, he was just not very exciting.”
A full year later…
We only have a few minutes and she’s not wasting any time.
She slides to the floor and takes me in her mouth, sucking me in deeply and begins to work on me. In a flash, I am stiffening, reaching into her throat as deep as I can. She catches my gaze and holds it as she pulls me in, lengthening me quickly, and my blood begins to pound in my ears.
I let her drive, ducking her head in and pulling back, faster then slower, harder then softer and deep, just like she knows I like it. Soon I am spurting into her mouth and throat, holding myself rigid while she milks me gently.
She swallows and toys with me for a second, teasing. “You’re still so easy. Even after all this time, I guess nobody sucks you like your little sister, huh?”
“You’re not my little sister,” I say peevishly, and push back into her mouth. She obliges, and I feel myself hardening right away. “You’re almost three years older than me.”
Then I feel the rush of it all again, so soon, the furnace heat of her mouth, the brush of her tongue across my glans, the soft bump of her palate meeting it as she moves her head in and out, bringing me right back to the moment. And I begin to move, thrusting into her mouth like I would in any of her orifices, the tide bubbles up and then rushes out, taking me with it. My groans sound strange even to my ears.
She hitches a bit, then quickly engulfs me completely, sucking me forcefully into her throat, the better to swallow it all quickly. But I stop.
As I push her down onto the rug supine, she makes a sound of surprise. “You haven’t wanted to fuck that way in… in years. Wow. God, that feels good,” she pants as I slide into her and start to pump.
Her pussy is as tight as I remember, though without the hymen. I feel her clasp me tightly just as she did all those years ago, and as I ram myself deep inside, I brush my groin against hers and rub it, just as I know to do, to tug the vaginal lips and give her clit the right amount of stimulation. I feel the squeeze as she begins to respond, and soon her spasms start, bringing the whimpering sounds that signal her orgasm.
So why do we keep on doing this, after all these years? When we were kids, maybe the first time was understandable; simple childish curiosity. But we have known better for decades. It’s not like we are poor rednecks from Appalachia. Incest is a major taboo in this society, and we’re mostly people who follow societal norms. In every other part of our lives we are normal.
She was married, I have never been. But I date a lot, various and sundry bimbos who praise me to their friends, tell them all how funny I am, how charming, how absolutely amazing in bed. Some are more serious, some are just pieces of ass.
But every so often…
It can go years, as it sometimes does, between times, and then sometimes it’s a few weeks. Often at family gatherings, but not always. Somehow no one ever seems to suspect.
I remember the day, several years ago, when she brought the guy over again who had wanted anal sex. I thought this must be someone special, if she was willing to try something like that. And her bringing him back again to a family gathering four months later seemed to confirm that.
I wasn’t sure that we’d do anything this time. Not unusual for us to just totally stop for a long time with no real discussion. Especially when one of us has a new someone. But when I heard her say she needed to go get something in the garage freezer, saw her incline her head in what seemed like an invitation, I followed a few minutes later, slipping off the deck when her date headed inside, I assumed to the can. But when I rounded the front, there he was, headed toward the building. Uh-oh. Close call. I followed, but kept my distance, stopping to smoke a cigarette, my alleged reason for leaving.
Eventually, I walked to the outside wall of the garage, and listened. The sound of rapid breathing and soft slurping came from the open window, and I chanced a peek. She knelt with her skirt pulled up to avoid the dirty floor, his cock in her hand and mouth, eyes squeezed shut as if she could not look.
What a surprise. The man’s cock was huge, red and thick, a good nine inches. Her lips strained to go around it and when he thrust forward, she hitched and tried to take half of him into her throat, her eyes bugging. Vienna sausage, my ass.
Well, her ass, actually.
Eyes still closed, he pulled her to her feet and she came reluctantly, bending at the waist and holding her skirt high. He positioned himself behind her and lined up his massive rod with her pussy, and she grimaced as he entered. But after a few deep thrusts, he pulled his cock out, shiny with her juices, and pressed it against her puckered anus. This kinky son of a bitch was going to fuck her in the ass right here at the Easter dinner. She caught her breath and her eyes zoomed wildly from side to side as he made his way laboriously into her ass, but she did not cry out, standing braced, her head hanging as if being lectured, as he skewered her. Her body language suggested she was being punished rather than pleasured, her limp and motionless form such a contrast to the way she was with me, when she was a full partner in the motion.
He seized her hips and buried his thick cock between her pale cheeks apparently all the way in, his heavy balls resting against her, and began to pump. She began to whimper, almost sobbing, but underneath it I thought I could hear the sounds that could signal orgasm.
I walked to the back of the building and loudly slammed the door. The sounds ceased abruptly.
erosexuality 